


In The Rain

by Lilianachan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2327720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilianachan/pseuds/Lilianachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of the barricades brought on several obstacles for the survivors. Will their paths cross once more? Will they be troubled by the people's sight on them? Will they get over the circumstances they are in? Marius/Cosette; Grantaire/Azelma; Enjolras/Éponine ! Rated for explicit mature scenes and violence !</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Pavement Shines Like Silver

**In The Rain:** **The Pavement Shines Like Silver  
** ** Rating:  M (explicit abuse, violence)  
** **Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables**

* * *

_But I won't follow you_   
_into the rabbit hole_   
_I said I would but then I saw_   
_your shivered bones_   
_They did not want me to_

_(~Terrible Love by Birdy~)_

* * *

 

Éponine ran through the shadows of the street. She had just brought Marius' letter to Cosette. Or rather her father. The man had not let her in to give the blonde the letter. She did not know if Monsieur Fauchlevant remembered her from when he got Cosette. She did not even know if the man had seen her hiding in the shadows of the inn.

She had wanted to stand in front of Cosette. To apologize for treating her badly as a child. But on the other hand would the blonde remember her at all? Would the blonde send her away?

She was so deep into her thoughts about that she had dropped her defense. Suddenly she was pulled into a dark alleyway and into strong arms. The smell of alcohol dirt and blood invaded her nostrils and she knew better than to scream.

“'Parnasse let go of me.”, she mumbled, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “I need to be somewhere.”, she demanded more forcing after he had not let go and not reacted to her at all. “Sorry 'Ponine, can't do that. I've got a message for you. I made a deal with you father. I'm sure that'll be good news for you.”, he smirked evilly and Éponine furrowed her brows in confusion and annoyance. With a nod she urged him to go on. She needed to get back to the Musain. Marius and Gavroche needed her help. She had to protect them. If anything ever happened to them-

“You're allowed back into the Patron Minette. But not as the boss' daughter. He says you'll be disinherited-” At this Éponine scoffed. What did her father own to inherit her any ways? “But guess what, he'll accept you as my wife.”, Montparnasse smirked. Éponine looked at him with a raised brow “Why would I want to marry you?”, she asked impatient. “Because I can take care of you, and you won't get anyone better than me anyways.”

That hurt. She knew she was not good enough for Marius or any student for that matter. But that hoping and wishing could hurt so much... It killed her inside to become aware of that. But that did not mean she would just give in to him like that. “I'd rather die alone than marry you.”, she spat at him. The insane grin that made it's way into Montparnasse's face did scare her a bit.

And suddenly the familiar feeling of metal against her throat was there. “If you want to get out of this alleyway alive and help your bourgeois boys in their want-to-be revolution you come with me and marry me.”, he whispered into her ear. She was trapped. He knew that he valued her life over anything else. For her life was a sign of strength. He also knew that she the years on the street had taught her to keep what cherished safe.  
“Alright. But you'll let me go to them right after.

Annoyed and impatient she let herself be dragged with him. She was still contemplating, whether that was a good idea. She searched for flight chances but could not find any. He must have purposely chosen the path so she could not escape him. Montparnasse tried to talk to her, but was ignored. The way seemed endless to her and once they had finally reached a dirty destroyed building that must have been a church once before turned into a ruin by street fights and the weather.

Inside she came face to face with the Patron Minette. Éponine felt like throwing up when she saw her sister. Azelma was beaten blue and green, and Éponine had the feeling it was her fault. Her father and his gang must have let out their rage against the younger of the sisters, after Éponine had run.

The wedding ceremony, if you could call it that at all, did fortunately did not take long. Instead of reading passages from the bible, singing beautiful songs, and exchanging poetic vows, like Éponine had always imagined it, the group of thieves stood in front of the man, who did not really look like a priest to Éponine. The priest just asked them whether the two wanted to marry each other and then proclaimed them as husband and wife. Montparnasse then pressed his lips on Éponine's and ignored her struggling.

“Can I go now?”, she asked once Montparnasse let go of her. “What does she mean Montparnasse?”, Thénardier asked the younger member of his gang. “Oh nothing, just a little something I promised her. She should know that she can't trust me.”, Montparnasse laughed and Éponine turned around ”'Parnasse let me go.”, she demanded and after her father nodded at his gang members they all took her hands to keep her still.

“You're forgetting a vital part of a wedding, dear Éponine. Don't deny him his wedding night because of the bourgeois out there.”, her father asked and Éponine felt her eyes widen. The began to struggle even harder. “Let me go! Damn it Montparnasse you bastard!”, she screeched and her 'husband' only smirked. Before she could grasp what was happening, the men had let go of her. A scream sounded through the ruin, the 'priest' had left them alone. The men had taken hold of Azelma, and Thénardier stood dragged a knife across the younger girl's stomach. ”Stop it you'll kill her!”, Éponine screamed at him. She scrambled to her feet and lunged at her father.

She was held back by Montparnasse who had pulled her back again. Once more she felt like throwing up, when she felt his excitement against her back. That sick bastard was turned on by this? “You'd rather switch places with her?”, he whispered into her ear, his hot breath sending cold shivers down her back. “Let her go. Send her away. I'll- I'll.... I'll go with you.”, she whispered and Montparnasse's dirty grin grew.

When Azelma was shooed away, Éponine could not meet her eyes. The Patron Minette then dissolved into the night as well, after telling them to have fun. Ashamed, and defeated she looked at her feet the whole time. Had she not sworn herself that she would never become like this. A helpless wife of a thug.

She stopped the tears and the bile that arose in her throat when his dirty fingers ripped her clothes of her, before he shed his own clothing. He pulled her close to him and began to touch her. He began groping her underdeveloped breasts descending downwards. Éponine kept still. With his one hand he took hers and put his erect penis into her hand, advising her to move it in a rhythmical manner. She followed his orders and did not fight him when he stopped her not much later. He started to attack her neck with his lips and pushed her on his dirty bed. With his hands he forced open her thighs that she had closed in the need to protect herself. Then he forced himself inside her. She bit her lips to muffle her pained scream. The taste of blood invaded her mouth and the tears were filling her eyes, as he pushed himself into her again and again. It felt like he was ripping her apart. She forced her eyes shut and endured it until he groaned and collapsed on top of her. His fluids spurted into her body.

* * *

 

**So this is the first chapter. I hope I did not scare any of you away with the last part. If you're here for only romance then I'd advise you to stick with me for a while. It might not come in the next chapters, but it will be there in the end.  
~Liliana-chan**

 


	2. Getting Lost

**In The Rain: Getting Lost**   
**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables!**

* * *

_Every step I'm taking_   
_Every move I make feels_   
_Lost with no direction_   
_My faith is shaking_   
_But I, I gotta keep trying_   
_Gotta keep my head held high_

_(~The Climb Miley Cyrus~)_

* * *

 

Éponine awoke with a start. The memories of the night haunting her. Remembering what Montparnasse had done with her let the bile raise. She hates- no despised him even. He had lied to her, forced himself on her, and kept her from her friends who needed her. Realization dawned upon her and she turned to her right, where she felt another person's presence. Montparnasse lay there on his stomach, the blanket covering his naked behind.

Quickly and cautiously Éponine stood up from the bed. She did not want to wake Montparnasse up. She was still adjusting her belt when she stepped out to the street. It was raining, and Éponine regretted forgetting her hat inside. But she could not turn around. What if Montparnasse woke up, while she was inside? What if he stopped her? She could not risk it. She could not risk staying away from the Musain because she had forgotten her hat.

She had no idea what time it was. But it had to be rather early in the morning. The streets of Paris were abandoned. Since she had to walk through the whole city, she experienced how the streets slowly got busier and busier. Those who knew her father did their best to step away from her. The did not yet know that her father had abandoned her. Those bourgeois people looked at her with disgust. Éponine had to bite down the anger when she watched a blonde bourgeois, who was at least ten years older than her, drop a dry piece of bread. When a young boy hurried to get it for his sister and himself, the bourgeois would have hit him, of Éponine had not interfered.

She jumped in front of the boy getting hit. It was not a particularly hard blow she got, but that could be because she had experienced worse. She growled at the blonde man, and he just snorted and turned away. The young boy, who introduced himself as Léon, thanked his savior loudly and jumped back into the shadows. The boy reminded her so much of Gavroche. A small cheerful boy, who cared only for those closest to him, who was able to get himself out of most situations.

She sped up to get to the Musain. For her brother. After finally reaching the street that led to the cafe, Éponine halted. The barricade was destroyed. How could that have happened? Panic arose inside her. What if Marius had not made it out alive? What if Gavroche...

She walked towards the cafe, when suddenly she was held back by a broad police man. “You can't go in there, girl.”, he snorted. “You won't disgrace the corpses you filthy street rat.” Éponine ignored his comment, for her eyes were fixed on the floor. The street was red. Blood red. The rain thinned the color and the metallic smell a little. She looked up at the police man. Her voice trembled “Corpses? Did the students...”, she could not end her sentence. “Yeah they failed. Got what they deserved, if you ask me.”, Éponine stopped herself from hitting the man. “They were fighting for a good cause.”, she bit out. The police officer rolled his eyes “But was it the right one? Now what's your business here? Was one of them your lovers? You thought you could snatch money from him and leave your man for him?”, he snorted at Éponine.

Éponine chose to ignore the comment, being too familiar with each of them, to care any more. “I'm looking for my brother. He always hung around here, but my husband did not let me go yesterday to look for him. He was scared I got involved in something dangerous. Can I please take a look, if he's there?”, she asked, the lie coming off her lips without a bat of her lashes. She was just so much used to tell lies.

“I''m sorry, for jumping to such quick conclusions, I just assumed...”, the police officer asked and Éponine turned on her false smile “Don't worry, we don't have it easy, I know how it looks. You're just lucky my husband isn't here, or he would not have been happy about your assumptions.” The police man let her through and she hurried inside.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she stepped inside, silently praying not to find many of them there. Of course she had met them all because she loved Marius, but she also spend times with the students.

She would never forget Joly, who always tried to give her food so she would not be so sickly thin;  
Lesgle, who accidentally spilled his wine on her as he tripped, when they first met; Bahorel who always waved at her lazily;  
Feuilly who literally had forced a fan on her on hot summer evening;  
Jean Prouvaire who often asked her about her love for Marius;  
Coufeyrac who she could always ask about her brother, although her brother decided to deny their parents;  
Combeferre who had often tried to get her to read;  
Grantaire, who would never fail to sit down and joke about the speeches;  
And Enjolras. The fearless leader of the group. She admired him. Not like she admired Marius. But she often found herself wondering, if it had not been for Marius, would she have fallen for Enjolras instead?

Taking a last breath she opened the door to the Musain hesitatingly. Gathering all her courage she stepped in. The air was suffocatingly, it smelled of wine, old wood, like always, but mixed with sweat and blood. Her hands trembled when she looked at the students one after another. She was relieved and puzzled by three of the students missing. Grantaire, Enjolras and Marius.  
However she could not ponder on this, because suddenly her heart stopped, and her whole world collided. Lined, next to all the students, next to all his heroes was her brother.

Gavroche was dead.

* * *

 

**Okay about the song above. I'm not really a big fan of Miley Cyrus, but something in the lyrics of this particular song just struck with me. I felt it fitting for this chapter and the way I want to portray Éponine.  
Guest- Thank you for the review. I'm glad that you liked it.  
~Liliana-chan**


	3. Curtains Of Rain All Appear

**In The Rain: Curtains of Rain All Appear**   
**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.**

* * *

 

_Curtains of rain all appear_   
_Watching the skirt of the day you disappeared_   
_Caught like a wheel in a groove_   
_Cranking it big but it don't want to move_

_(Count me In ~ Early Winters)_

* * *

 

Éponine could not remember, how she had gotten away from the Musain, she only knew, that she had sank down, next to Gavroche, and all the weight that had been on her broke down on her. It was her fault that her little brother, was laying on the stone floor, dead. She was his bigger sister, she was supposed to protect him, she had failed. And she had failed because she had trusted Montparnasse. A lesson she should have learned long ago.

She was not one to easily cry and shed tears, but there are certain moments where it was just all too much. And this was one of those moments.

The following weeks passed in a gray haze. Without rebelling she helped the Patron Minette, actually earning back the trust from her father, not that she wanted that. She helped rob a mansion in a better off part of Paris. She watched as her _husband_ shot a boy in Gavroche's age, because he was in the way. She watched the mother of the child weep once she had found her son. Éponine watched, but felt nothing. No remorse, no hatred for Montparnasse, no hate for herself for not stopping him. No grief for the boy, that looked like a well-fed version of her brother.

She stood by and watched as Montparnasse robbed and beat a homeless man in an alleyway. If his angular face had been fuller, he would have reminded Éponine of someone. But again she did not care. She did not care that Montparnasse stole him the last piece of bread he had kept for himself, they had watched him giving the rest to a woman with a newly born baby, looking just as ragged as he did. Éponine could not bring herself to care. She could not bring herself to try to think of who he reminded her of.

Éponine allowed Montparnasse to take advantage of her, she did not struggle against his touches, his kisses. She just let him do what he wanted with her. He did not hit her, when she behaved as he called it. He could have hit her, for all she cared, it was not like she felt anything at all.

If she would be able to feel, she would probably have been grateful for Montparnasse's possessiveness. It saved her from having to sell herself on the streets, like so many women, or girls. If he had demanded him, she felt so numb, that she would have done it without rebelling.

One time, after a robbery of the Patron Minette had not gone so well, she was in the only dirty bar that let the thugs in. Her father and her husband drank upon their failing. They drank from late evening until they were totally sloshed in the early hours of the morning. Éponine sat with them at the table, and ignored Montparnasse's hand traveling up and down her inner thigh. Wearing a stony expression, she was not surprised, when suddenly Montparnasse turned to her and blamed her for the failing robbery.

The back of his hand hit the side of her face, and she looked up at him, not understanding what he had done. Her not reacting, made him even wilder, and her father began to help him. Together they hit her again and again. When they finally stopped, and left the bar, she was laying on the floor. Her stomach hurt from the kicks her father had aimed there, on of her arm was either sprained or broken, her lip had opened, and there were scratch marks on her right cheek.

When she felt a tear running down her hurt cheek, after a month of numbness and gray, the world turned to color again. She felt emotions again. She felt hurt, betrayal, frustration, pain, grief.  
How she wished for the numbness.

* * *

 

**Hello my dear, few readers. I'm back. The apprenticeship is over and I can't believe I'm out of the theater again haha. The other side of a production (director and so on) really is hard. But it was still a great experience.**

**Guest \- Thanks for the review :), I'm glad that you liked it.**

**~Liliana-chan**


	4. I Couldn't Protect You

**In The Rain: I Couldn't Protect You**   
**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.**

* * *

 

_Tell me I'm strong,_   
_Tell me I'm weak_   
_tell me I' never_   
_ever bend._   
_Tell me I'm fire,_   
_Tell me I'm cold,_   
_Cold oh, I tell myself over_   
_over and over again_

_(All The World ~ Correatown)_

* * *

 

When she reached the small dirty apartment she shared with Montparnasse, the tears were still streaming down her face. Thankfully she noticed that Montparnasse was soundly asleep, sprawled out on the dirty bed sheets. Silently she put off her dress, only clad in her linen chemise and lay down as far away from Montparnasse, as possible.  
It did not take long for her to fall asleep.

“'Ponine!”, she heard a boyish voice call after her in her dream. She was in an intact Musain, still in her boy disguise. She turned to the voice and could not trust her eyes. There standing in front of her was no one else but Gavroche. She wanted to say something to him, but she was speechless.

The small boy wore a scowl on his face and began to taunt his sister “I'm disappointed in you,'Ponine! You're letting yourself down so easily. That's not my sister. You need to defend yourself. Don't let yourself be pulled down by that bastard Montparnasse. My sister Éponine isn't like that!

“My sister is one of the bravest people I've ever met. She was the person who put herself in the line of our parents' rage to defend me and Azelma. My sister helped others selflessly, not caring if she was hurt in the process. My sister stood up for herself, and most importantly for her friends. And now she's gone. I want to know why? Where has she gone?”, he asked, and Éponine gulped.

“She died along with you.”, she answered and Gavroche rolled his eyes. “So just because some foolish boys, who decided to fight for a cause died-”, Éponine interrupted him “That's not it 'Vroche! You died because I dumbly trusted one person who I should not have trusted. You died because I wasn't there to protect you! You died because I was not able to protect what is important to me. Because I was not strong enough!”, she yelled at her brother, unaware of the tears streaming down her face.

Suddenly there were two small arms around her middle, and her brother embraced her. Éponine sank down to her knees and hugged him back. “'Vroche, do you remember all the things, I promised you we'd do one day? We can never become rich and buy whatever we want. You can never walk me down the aisle, like you promised after I read you that fairy tale. You can never fall in love, never marry, never have children who you can offer a better life to.”, she sobbed into Gavroche's unruly curls.

“I know, 'Ponine. But just think of what I died for. What we died for. 'Ponine, we're martyrs. We had to die to make a difference, to show the people who were not ready yet, what was wrong in the country. I'm proud to be seen like that Éponine. I'll be with you your whole life. Carry on with our cause. Show France that something has to be changes.”, he thought for a moment and grinned suddenly. “Listen to me, 'Ponine, I'm starting to sound like Enjolras.”, he laughed, and Éponine felt a smile coming to her face.

“Éponine, you have to break free from Montparnasse, from our parents, from the Patron Minette.”, Gavroche's face was serious again. “I don't know how, Gavroche. Wherever I turn they are. In each shadow one of them is lurking.”, she answered. “See, that's what I meant. The 'Ponine I grew up witch, the 'Ponine who practically raised me, due to the inability of our parents, my big sister would never give up before even starting. She would kick, bite, punch her way out of those who try to hold her in a cage. I know you can do it, 'Ponine. You have to carry on with our cause! Do it for us.”

Filled with sudden new found strength, Éponine looked at her brother and nodded. “I have to go now, 'Ponine. My time here is up. I have to get back to the others.”, he beamed at her and Éponine held him closer “No, 'Vroche, please don't go.”, she mumbled. “Éponine make me proud.”

The dream around her vanished and she woke up in her bed. It was still night, but she felt so energetic that she practically jumped out of the bed and started to make plans. Montparnasse's snores in the background were unheard.

Her brother had been right. She had to carry on with the cause. She had to do it for all the Amis. She had to break free, find Marius and together they would make the cause important. Like a phoenix it would rise from the ashes. She made plans, scribbled hastily notes on a spare piece of paper. She was grateful, that Enjolras had taught her and her brother to write. He had been right it had come in handy. She did not even have to be afraid of Montparnasse reading this. Her _husband_ could neither read nor write.

She would fight, she would regain her freedom, she would get away from her father and his gang. For Gavroche, for all the Amis, for the cause and most importantly for herself. The world had now become more than just the chaotic whirl of colors it had become the day before. The colors had rearranged themselves into array that made sense again. The blues, the greens, the yellows, the whites, the oranges, the grays, the browns.

The Reds and the Blacks. The cause would not die. And she would make sure of that.

* * *

 

**Sorry for not updating all this time. When I'm not in university I'm having dancing/acting/singing lessons. I'll try to update each week from now on.**

**Guest-** **Thank you!  
~Liliana-chan**


	5. Freedom

**In The Rain: Freedom**   
**Disclaimer : I do not own Les Mis.**

* * *

 

_I'm an angel with a shotgun,_   
_fighting till the war's won._   
_I don't care if heaven won't take me back._   
_I'll throw away my faith babe, just to keep you safe._   
_Don't you know that you're everything I have?_   
_And I wanna live, not just survive, tonight._

_(Angel With A Shot Gun ~ The Cab)_

* * *

 

She had just finished writing a letter to her sister, once again glad that Azelma had gotten a job in a book store. The shop owner had taught Azelma to read, and it was not hard to hide the note this way. She told her sister to get away from the city for a couple of days, somewhere the Patron Minette would not be able to find her. She dropped the note at the book store before she went to get a piece of bread for the Patron Minette. Swiftly she stole the loaf of bread and ducked out of the bakery, before the owner could see what she had done.

On her way back she passed Azelma who nodded at her, notifying her sister that she had gotten her letter and that she was on her way to hiding. Éponine knew Azelma would most likely head to the Elephant, Gavroche had so often claimed as his flat. Éponine did not need to worry about her sister, she knew Azelma would be safe there. Putting up her passive facade she went back to her flat, to see Montparnasse stirring.

“You'll be staying at home today, honey. After what had happened last time the boss doesn't want you with us for the robbery.”, he grinned at her wickedly, pressed a sluggish peck on her cheek and left her.

She felt lucky that she intelligently had broken away a piece of the bread for herself, because Montparnasse left with the loaf in his pocket. After swallowing the small piece she had left for herself, she began to prepare what was going to happen when Montparnasse and the rest of the Patron Minette would be back.

She placed two candles on the night stand, and changed into her night dress. Montparnasse thought she still was in her passive mood so it would be unusual for her to be in her dress when he would return. When she heard steps on the stairs outside she counted the doors closing. Hiding her grin quickly she lit the castles before Montparnasse would return. Just like she had planned. All of the Patron Minette were in the building. Éponine and Montparnasse lived on the ground floor of the building, the rest of the Patron Minette lived in the flats above theirs.

Montparnasse threw the door open and declared “I'm back.” Éponine bit down a sarcastic remark and looked up from her place on the bed, acting indifferent to the world. “It's such a pity you're so silent, my dear. You will feel so good in a couple of minutes. Now come on your husband wants pleasure.”, he grinned nastily, throwing his shirt across the room. And pulling his pants down. A minute later she felt his weight above hers, when he pushed his mouth on hers. She could taste the liquor from his lips. Then he pulled away from her shoving her back into the pillows.

His hands went into her hair and forced it to stay in place, when he pressed his manhood against her closed lips. “Open your mouth, dear.”, he ordered and she followed his orders. She felt dirty bobbing her head, but it was part of her plan. She needed him to be out cold later on. “Use your tongue.”, Montparnasse ordered and she followed the orders, moving the muscle against his pelvis. He sputtered her name and erupted his fluid inside her mouth. She swallowed all of it, so she would not throw up on him. She had forgotten how dirty she felt doing that.

He ripped her chemise off her and opened her legs with his hand. His dirty hand passing past her sweet spot once. Then he pushed himself inside of her. “That feels good, doesn't it, honey?”, he asked and she nodded mutely, like she remembered doing when the world was still gray. He rocked against her grunting her name. He did not last long and soon she felt his manhood spurting inside her. Her husband collapsed on top of her and fell asleep in an instant, snoring into her ear.

Now it was time. She freed her leg from under his weight and kicked one of the candle she had lit onto a staple of old papers. The papers were burning in a hot fire and soon the flames sprung to the fabrics around. She waited a couple of more minutes to make sure the fire was strong enough to burn everything down.

When she was sure the fire was blazing enough she tried to get up. She tried to wiggle herself free from his arms and once she was able to get out, she suddenly was trapped in his arms. She gulped and looked up, afraid the man had woken up. He had not. He had just grabbed for her in his sleep. She tried to push herself away from him. She did not even care if she woke him up. She kicked, bit, hit him, but his grip around her was steady and she could not get out. Panic arose in her chest and she was afraid for her life.

It got harder to breath, it felt like the smoke pressed her lungs together. Tears fell down her cheeks. She could not escape. She would kill herself while trying to free herself, it felt ironic. She willed her eyes to stay open, but her lids fell close. She had thought she would see her brother, her friends, Marius before her death. But all she saw was a blonde angle pulling her towards the clouds before everything turned dark.

* * *

 

**I know I promised an update yesterday or the day before. But I suffered from Writer's Block. And now I'm sitting in Starbucks, drinking a coffee and coincidentally have my huge laptop with me. I probably got/get this online later, I don't trust Starbucks' Wifi. Yes I was sitting in Starbucks probably blushing to myself while I wrote the lemon part.  
~Liliana-chan**


	6. Failing

**In The Rain: Failing**   
**Disclaimer : I do not own Les Mis.**

* * *

 

_Your faith and patience will be your soldiers_   
_To guide you through your troubled times_   
_Just put one foot in front of the other_   
_The battles are inside your mind_   
_You have the power to face your demons_   
_No matter how they go at time_   
_And rid yourself of your fear and weakness_   
_So you can start to live your life_

_(Stand~ Lenny Kravitz)_

* * *

 

He woke with a start and took a moment to take in his surroundings.  
He was in the alley behind the Musain that was hidden but all of the students meeting there regularly knew about. From the way the sun shone into his face, he figured it was late morning, around 11 or so.

It was raining and had apparently rained all night, seeing as he was drenched to the bone. He tried to sit up and noticed a sharp pain at his side. Looking down he noticed that his scarlet overcoat was gone and that he was wearing a dirty, bloody bandage over his white shirt.

Right the revolution. His cause. The barricade being attacked by the army. He remembered being shot. Joly had pulled him through the Musain, past their prisoner, and into the alley. As soon as his friend was finished, he had wanted to stand up and go back to the barricade. His friend, however, had asked him to take a small break, they would not be needing him when he could not concentrate. After dissolving some painkiller for him Joly had left and he had drunken the medicine.

He remembered thinking he would close his eyes for five minutes and then get back. The painkiller must have been too strong for his consciousness had faded.

Realization hit him and he practically jumped up, ignoring the searing pain in his side. Running into the the inside of the Musain and stopped in his tracked. His friends lay beside each other, dead. Although he did not see Marius or Grantaire, the sight of the rest of the group, lined up, their eyes closed, some of them in a puddle of blood, forced tears into his eyes.

However, when he saw Gavroche laying there, almost as if asleep, he turned and ran. The tears unstoppable. The self-hatred unstoppable.

It was his fault. He was their fearless leader, it was his plan, his revolution. And he had slept while they were killed. Each and every one of them trusted him. Respected him, respected his cause. Looked up to him eve and he was asleep while they died.

He was supposed to lead them into a new a life, into a new country, into a brighter future. But he had failed. Horribly so.

Enjolras had failed.

And he had survived.

Which made his failure even bigger.

He crouched in the alley trying to get his breathing in order.

It was useless to say it was the peoples' fault. They knew something was wrong in France but were too afraid to step in the revolution. Some of them did not take them seriously. A bunch of bourgeois students trying to fight for something they had no idea about. They grew up in wealth, or at least in a safe environment without having to live on the streets.

He thought letting Gavroche and his sister in, that would stop. To make them see he was doing it for France, for his Patria and not just for fun.

He knew one of his group would lose his life. He had thought it was himself, that the others could carry on. But no. He had survived. Even little Gavroche had died.

The small boy should be the one awake and not he himself. Life was not too bright for the little urchin, but he was young, a life full of change in front of him. And he had been passionate. Almost as passionate as he was.

He had not realized that he had started walking around. When he noticed that he had ended upon a bridge over the Seine he stopped suddenly, causing the woman behind him, dressed in a pretty teal coloured dress, to bump into him. He apologized quickly and the blonde smiled at him warmly.

When he turned away from her he could hear the people around him talk about him. What he as a bum dared to even touch such a pretty girl. He furrowed his brow. He was everything but a bum, his parents most likely had more money than all of them together. Something he detested.

But their comments made him think.

Maybe it was a sign, not from god, he was not really a religious person, but from his _Patria_. Maybe he was supposed to restart his purpose with more knowledge.

Or maybe it was his punishment for failing not only Patria but also his friends. Enjolras was no one who would take his own life without his case. He had not survived his failing to end his life nonetheless.

He would go through with his punishment. It was harder to live then to die. It was something he had to do.

He may have not been able to show his country what was wrong, but he could help. And then he could still join his friends.

Making up his mind, he took the little money he had to buy bread. The baker looked at him funny, but he did not care. His money was enough to get five big loafs of bread and he was going to give it to those who needed it. He made his way over to where he knew Gavroche had lived. He also knew that the little boy was not the only one to search refuge at the elephant statue.

After he had given the children three of his loafs he went on wandering the streets, giving out pieces of the bread to the homeless and poor, making sure he would not give it to people like Eponine's and Gavroche's parents. He was no one to judge on them, but he knew that what they did was wrong.

He had totally forgotten about his wound until he lay down on the blanket he had gotten from an old woman for his bread. He had decided to sleep on the streets, it was too dangerous to return to his room. If they thought he was dead it was better, they would not search for him. They would contact his family and his brother, whom he was a disappointment to anyway.

The way he lived before led him to failure in his plans. He was not going to stop. He was going to move forward.

* * *

 

**Soo the first chapter of Enjolras' arc so to say. It will all be connected don't worry. It will make sense. Anyways Sorry for the long wait... I had university stuff to do and didn't have the time to write.**

**~Liliana-chan**


	7. He Had Failed

**In The Rain: He Had Failed  
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis.  
** **Warning:** **Enjolras has suicide thoughts in this chapter. Please don't read if this is a trigger to you/ you do not want to read it. Please skip this chapter.**

* * *

 

_Crowded streets all cleared away_   
_One by One_   
_Hollow heroes separate_   
_As they run_   
  
_You're so cold_   
_Keep your hand in mine_   
_Wise men wonder while_   
_Strong men die_

_(So Cold ~ Breaking Benjamin)_

* * *

 

Enjolras smiled at his friends. They were in the Musain, just as usually, and after he had given his speech, he had allowed his friends to drink. There was something to celebrate after all. Their revolution had been successful. He had changed France. They had done it together.

He even took a few sips of the alcohol, something he rarely allowed himself. It felt good to be together with his friends, he lived in the utopia that all of them had gotten through the fight.

Suddenly Gavroche jumped upon a table, with his sister's glass in his hand, and declared “To Enjolras, who led us through this.”, his friends lifted their glasses. Next one to speak was Grantaire “To Enjolras who made drunks, women and children equal to him.”

He did not know what was happening but when Coufeyrac stood and declared “To Enjolras who let his friends lay down their lives for him.”, the atmosphere changed. All of a sudden every one of his friends, even Eponine looked like a corpse that stood up again.

Blood seemed to seethe through their clothing and Enjolras did not know why. “To Enjolras who failed miserably.” “Whose cause was nothing but a death sentence.” “Who let us die so he could live his life.” “What a coward.” “Never in the history of France was there a more horrible leader.”

They came towards him, guns and knifes in their hands. And he let them. He would go where he belonged. It was Eponine who reached him first, pressing her short knife against his throat with her small hand gripping the handle. He could have sworn to hear her say “Help me.”, the metal of the knife was drawing blood.

Enjolras sat upright on his blanket. His heart was beating and sweat was running down his face, mixing with rain.

The message his dream gave him was clear. He was not supposed to be alive. He was supposed to die with his friends, he had failed them. He did not deserve to live on.

He stood up. Went to sell his blanket and whatever else they wanted from him. The money he got from all he gave to little children on the street. He made sure to walk in the shadows. Once he reached a lonely bridge over the Seine he turned around to see if no one was there to see him.

The wind was gushing against his face, strong enough to lift his dirt-caked hair. He stood up there and contemplated. His cause had failed. It was dumb and childish to think a country which had just gotten through a long revolution, full of unnecessary deaths, would be all in for another revolution. It was childish to think the bourgeois would give up their money and status to help others. It was childish to think they would join in a revolution, after the revolution that happened before had cost mostly bourgeois lives.

He had acted like a small, spoiled child that had not gotten what he had wanted. He was childish and unprepared and sent his friends in a useless death.

Breathing in a rattling breath he closed his eyes and leaped into the water, not even trying to fight the current. He smiled sadly thinking _'I'll be by your side my friends.'._ Spots appeared in his vision and he fought the urge to breath.

He felt his consciousness fade.

The next thing he saw was a woman with short cut brown hair and brown eyes. She was clothed in a white long night dress. Who was this woman? Was this his patria.

She smiled at him sadly and shook her head. She did not speak but her message was clear. It was not time for him to go. He was supposed to live on.

She did not understand. He had failed his cause, failed his friends, who all died because he was a useless, childish fool, unable to be a leader. He should not be alive.

Again she shook her head. Her message was that he had to live on. For his friends. He still had time. Unlike her, who had been taken the chance to live a happy life, with her family and friends. Who had been pulled to death by sickness. Leaving her daughter alone.

Their lives were so different, Enjolras was sure, her life had been taken too early, while he had died too late. It was different.

Again the woman smiled, this time more happy, and he heard her soft voice say “Live.”

He opened his eyes and coughed. The water left his lungs. Why was he on the dry riverbed? “Are you allright, boy?”, an old man asked him. He seemed strong and Enjolras knew him from somewhere. “How? What? I was drowning.”, Enjolras had no idea what had happened.

“I saw you and recognized you. You're the man from two weeks ago. You ran into me. I called Papa, because I saw you jump, I did not want you to die, dear monsieur.”, a female voice explained and he turned to the woman. Except for her blue eyes and her long blonde curls she looked exactly like the woman from when he lost consciousness. They looked as if they could be mother and daughter.

“Monsieur, please do not take your life. You're too young to throw your life away. There's always a second chance for everyone.”, the man explained and Enjolras nodded, although he chose to disagree.

“Papa, you stay with him, I'll go fetch a doctor.”, the woman stood up and took her basket full of fresh vegetables and fruit. “No doctor.”, Enjolras croaked. And the man shook his head. “You need one, you'll die.”

“Please no doctor, I'll be alright.”, he assured the man and felt the old man's eyes on him, doubtfully. “Okay. But please take this. Go buy some thick clothes and food.”, the man held out several coins.

“Give it to the poor. I don't need it.”, Enjolras pulled himself to his feet. “I promise I will. But you'll need this. You can't help them when you're dead.”

Eyeing the money Enjolras held his hand out hesitatingly. After the man had placed the coins in his hand, Enjolras turned and ran, but not after calling “Thank you.” to the old man.

He bought himself some thicker clothing, nothing too expensive, so he could also get some bread and give it to the children. Him living was his punishment, he had acknowledged it and prayed his friends would forgive him for living on.

* * *

 

**Dark chapter. I am aware that the amis are OOC at the beginning of the chapter, but I remind you that this was Enjolras' nightmare and nothing rational. And yes it is supposed to be Fantine (Movie-version) who appears before Enjolras. Hope you liked the chapter.**

**~Liliana-chan**


	8. Brother

**In The Rain: Brother**   
**Disclaimer : I do not own Les Mis.**

* * *

 

**Warning: Enjolras is still suicidal, but he does not try actively.**

* * *

 

_Now I see fire_   
_Inside the mountain_   
_I see fire_   
_Burning the trees_   
_I see fire_   
_Hollowing souls_   
_I see fire_   
_Blood in the breeze_   
_And I hope that you remember me_

_(I See Fire ~ Ed Sheeran)_

* * *

 

He was walking through the city. It was night. Every shadow he saw reminded him of his friends. Whom he had failed, who had died because of him. The guilt was weighing him down. He just wished he had died along them. Maybe in one parallel ending to the story he had.

He did not know why but the woman who appeared him when he had tried to drown just would not let him die. He had tried, but every time she appeared and shook her head.

He was passing his old house, where Combeferre, Joly and Coufeyrac had also rented their apartments and felt the sudden need to go inside. He was about to take a step out of the alley he was stopped in his tracks when he saw the people in front of the house.

He knew only one, but who the others were was easy to guess. A couple, in mourning clothes, stood close, the woman weeping into her handkerchief. She had the same nose and chin as Combeferre, her husband the same eye colour and shape. Those were Combeferre's parents. Next to them was a girl around 19, her cheeks tear stained, she was biting her lip, just like Joly used to. Next to her stood the woman Coufeyrac once introduced to him as his grandmother.

They were all crying bitterly, except for one. Enjolras knew the blonde curls, that were much like his own. The man was a bit bigger and broader than him. Enjolras knew the way he had his weight on one of his legs. Knew his melodic voice.

Why was he here? Why did he come and not his parents? He, who loathed Enjolras' way of thinking like no other. Why Gauthier?

“I'm really sorry for your loss. My parents send their condolences. They are too ashamed of my brother too meet you. I always knew he was going to get himself killed, because of his stupid idea. But I had no idea he would stoop as low and get your boys into this as well. He's responsible for their deaths.” Enjolras felt the bile rising in his throat. Funny how the only thing they ever shared opinions was this matter.

“Did your brother pull the trigger?”, Coufeyrac's grandmother asked and Gauthier looked at her confused. “He did not kill them. My grandson died for what he believed was right. He died for a good cause.”, the old woman explained and his brother snorted.

“To get beggars and whore's out of the slums? You do realize we'd be the first ones they'd kill. We're the privileged and they are not. They belong in their gutter. Belong in their brothels. If it's not them that's here it'll be us. We have the money and they don't and its good that way.”

“Excuse me, Monsieur but are you implying my grandson died for a lost cause? You selfish little over-privileged-”

“Enough. This is hard enough for us already. Please drop this matter. I only want to get inside and get my brother's stuff.”, Joly's sister interrupted. She held herself up making her look taller than she was.

His brother apologized and opened the door for them, telling them to go ahead, he would stay down to calm himself. Coufeyrac's grandmother went first and Enjolras knew she was headed for one of the rooms in the first floor, across his room. The stairs was actually where they had talked the first time. Noticing that the other three had went in to get to the rooms on the second floor, Enjolras shook his head and got out of the shadows.

He did not know whether his brother would recognize him, but he did not care. Gauthier would never look at someone like him a second time. They bore the same surname, a name that had gotten to be solely his own. No one was related closer to him by blood, but no one had ever been further away from him as a person.

He walked past his brother, stretching his back, trying to come off as taller. Something he always did when he confronted his brother. He was the younger of the two and never good enough for their grandmother, who had lived with him until she died of all age. His parents did not favour one of their sons, but Gauthier was always treated better because that was what the matriarch of the family ordered.

On purpose he let himself fall over his own feet and into his brother's arms. His brother immediately pushed him away and into the dirt. “Get away from me you scum.”, he yelled and Enjolras looked up. “I know what you wanted to do, you bastard. You wanted to rob me to buy poor whores didn't you? Or knifes to kill those above you. Apologize to me!”, Gauthier ordered and Enjolras glared as he stood up.

When his brother's look changed into one of confusion and horror, Enjolras turned away. Maybe his brother had recognized him, maybe he did not.

He had no idea what had come over him to confront his brother that way. It had been stupid. But maybe, just maybe his brother had recognized him and would come after him with the police to kill him.

He waited and waited for his brother to appear with policemen to kill him, but they did not come. Either his brother did not have the guts to kill his own brother, or he did not recognize him. However, the second was too probable.

His brother would have volunteered to shoot Enjolras.

Frustrated he walked out of what had become his alley and asked around for money. He always stressed it was not for himself, although his stomach wanted to disagree with him.

He was just passing a bakery when the door there opened. A girl around 16, whom he knew was the baker's daughter, walked out. She held three loafs of bread. Seeing his chance he walked towards her, careful not to startle her.

“Please mademoiselle don't run away, I don't want any harm.”, he told her holding up his hands when she saw him and jumped.

“I just want the bread you're about to throw out...”

* * *

 

**What a brother! I feel really mean because I made Enjolras' brother that way. By the way his name is Gauthier, which (according to my aunt's name book) means leader. Enjolras is the surname of the two young men. Our Enjolras' first name will be revealed later on. Maybe.**

**~Liliana-chan**


	9. On His Own

**In The Rain: On His Own  
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis.**

* * *

**Warning:** **Enjolras is still suicidal, but he does not try actively.**

* * *

_Just call me if ever our paths may collide_  
 _I want you to call me under these darkened sky's_  
 _Whoever you love, whoever you kiss  
_ _The wandering between us I'm willing to miss_

_Now I'm drifting out over deep oceans_   
_And the tide won't take me back in_   
_And these desperate nights I'll call you again and again_

_(Between us ~ Peter Bradley Adams)_

* * *

 

“Thank you.”, the woman almost cried of happiness when he gave her one of the last loafs he had. The woman held a small child, barely a year, which was wrapped in a thick blanket, in her arms and hugged Enjolras awkwardly.

She jumped away from him when she heard the sound of a pebble hitting the wall next to them. Enjolras stood in front of the woman protectively only to see a group of crooks.

At their side stood a young woman he recognized immediately. Eponine.

Her long brown hair was astray, there were even more bruises on her arms as usual and her eyes, that usually either glinted with mischief or hopefully in love when Marius was in the room, her eyes looked dull. He felt himself raise a brow when he saw the cheap metal band around her finger. Eponine was married? Since when?

Maybe this was the reason why she did not come to the barricade. At least she did not die for his cause as well. But she did not look happy. Something was wrong. Maybe she was grieving her brother.

If that was Eponine then the group she was around with must have been the Patron Minette. He scanned the group of men. One of them had the same eye colour as Eponine and must have been her father. Another one wore an identical wedding ring as her. Her husband.

Eponine looked at him but there was no recognition of him in her features. There was no emotion at all in her features.

Before he could call out to her he could feel the last loaf of bread, he still had in his hand, be pulled from his grip and the next thing he knew was that Eponine's husband and her father had started hitting him.

He felt their fists meet his face, his arms; felt their knees and feet meet his stomach and back. Without taking his gaze from Epoinine he crumbled to the floor. He tasted blood on his lips, but that did not matter.

Something was seriously wrong with her. He knew the only thing she had grown afraid of was her father and his gang, knowing what they would do. But that did not keep her from fighting them. Even if they blackmailed her, she would at least show some emotion.

Even if she did not recognize him, which he could not blame her for, she would at least show the disgust she held for her father and his minions in her face.

That must have been his fault. Because he was unable to protect her brother he was dead. The only one he ever heard her voice her worry about, except for Marius, was her brother's well-being. She was broken because her brother was dead. Her brother was dead because of him. He was responsible for Gavroche's death. He killed him. He broke her.

The realization hit him harder than each hit by Eponine's father or husband.

Maybe this was what he had to see before he was allowed to go. The consequences for what he had done. Or rather had not.

How he wished everything had ended differently. How he wished he had died along with his friends instead of Gavoche. If only he had not been so utterly useless.

Eponine would not have to suffer so much.

Without looking back she left alongside the Patron Minette while he lay on the floor beaten and battered. But alive. He swore inwardly. He just wanted to die. Why was he not allowed to go? Why was he denied the comfort of death, of not having to see the suffering he had failed to end, of not having to see the harm he had done.

He laughed bitterly. He would just lay there on the floor until his time had come. It did not matter if it took two hours or twenty years. He would lay there on the cold floor, beaten and bruised until it was all over.

He could hear Coufeyrac tell him in his mind to get his act together, but he could not bring himself to do so. He would never be the same. He could not picture himself declaring revolution, could not see himself fight something that was not right.

He just wanted to turn back the hours and stop himself from his foolishness. He wanted this all to be a nightmare that he would wake up from the following morning. He wanted it all to be over.

With Eponine's broken look burned into his mind he fell asleep.

He was just as broken as her. But she had people around her, at least physically. He was all alone.

On his own.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit short I'm sorry. But writer's block struck me. Didn't know what exactly to write. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.  
> ~Liliana-chan


	10. Saving You

**In The Rain: Saving You  
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis.**

* * *

_When you try your best, but you don't succeed_  
 _When you get what you want, but not what you need_  
 _When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
_ _Stuck in reverse_

_[…]_

_Lights will guide you home_   
_And ignite your bones_   
_And I will try to fix you_

_(Coldplay ~ Fix You)_

* * *

 

He had not known how and why but he had fallen asleep. In his sleep he dreamed about Eponine broken. He dreamed about Gavroche laying there on the cold floor, motionless. All of a sudden he heard Grantaire's voice. He could not make out the words. All he knew was that his friends had all died. The survivors were broken.

He woke up disoriented. Someone had brought him into a messy apartment and had laid him on the bed. There were some bandages on him but they were not as cleanly done as Joly had done them. Enjolras looked around the room. There was nothing to identify the owner neither was he or she there. Enjolras pulled himself up ignoring the pain.

On the small table next to the bed where he had lain there was a note. He picked it up to read it.

“I'll be back soon. R.”

This could not be Grantaire. It could not be Grantaire. He could not let himself hope it was and then be disappointed. This would only break him even more.

Without knowing where to go, he pulled a jacket over his shirt and dashed out the door. Hearing it close behind him he hurried down the stairs and ran until he could not run any more.

When he looked up he found himself at the Elephant of the Bastille. The shelter that had once been inhabited by little Gavroche. The small boy had so often told him about the other children that lived here with him. Told him how they needed help. Instead of going there and providing food or money or books for the children he only went on planning his revolution. That had failed.

Not knowing what to do with himself he stood unsure of himself.

He did not know how long he had been standing there when suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see a young woman in her late teens. She looked familiar but it was nothing he could put his finger on.

“Can I help you, Monsieur?”, she asked and he felt himself think of an answer. He had no idea how he ended up there at the Elephant. He had no idea what he wanted there.

The girl laughed and pulled him with her “Come on, let's get you inside. I'm sure the boys will share some of their food with you.” Enjolras could not help but let himself be pulled into the Elephant. Six or seven pairs of eyes looked up to him.

“Mademoiselle Azelma who is that?”, asked a boy, who was clearly the eldest. He must have taken over the spot as leader after Gavroche did not return.

“I don't know Sebastien, he was standing outside and looked lost.”, she smiled and offered Enjolras a spot on the floor to sit. “I'm also only their guest. My sister wrote me to hide for a couple of days. These boys were kind enough to take me in for the time.”, she smiled and Enjolras nodded.

After Azelma had asked them for a piece of bread the boys gave Enjolras a small one, which he wanted to deny. It felt not right to take the bread from the young boys who needed it far more than him. He may even have gotten away with it, had Azelma not forced the piece onto him. He ate it reluctantly.

The boys then started to tell their stories about their fearless leader Gavroche who, they were sure of it, would return to them soon. Enjolras' stomach dropped. Should he tell those boys that their leader would never return. That he was dead. He had not only been a bad leader to his own group of friends, but he had taken the leader from another away. The sorrow did not seem to end.

She must have noticed his unease because she told the boys she would be going out to get some blanket for the boys and asked Enjolras to come with her. Happy for the fresh air, Enjolras followed her.

They were walking in silence through the twilight until they had reached the shop, Azelma wanted to get the blankets from. When she had returned with seven blankets she smiled up at him “Do you want to talk about it? I mean you don't have to but it could help.” He thought for a moment before shaking his head. He did not want to burden this young woman with his suffering.

“If you ever need someone to talk to I'd be happy-”, she was interrupted when a voice called out her name.

“Mademoiselle Azelma, come quick. It's your parents' house its burning to the ground.”, a man, around 40 told her and she asked “Is my sister still in there?”, she asked and the man answered “I don't know. My wife saw the Monsieur Montparnasse and his Madame go inside but not come out. The upper floors are lost but maybe we could look if your sister and her husband are still inside.”

“I don't care about Montparnasse, I just want my sister safe.”, she followed the man and Enjolras did not have to decide long to run after them.

The flames were licking on the building, the door open. It was clear to see that the stairs had already burnt down. No one would be able to get upstairs to get the ones that lived there. Enjolras had no idea how anyone could survive this.

“My sister, you have to help my sister. She's in the ground floor. Oh please someone save my sister.”, Azelma had started to cry when she had seen the flames. Enjolras looked over to her.

Before he could contradict himself he put the blankets she had placed in his arms before on the floor and ran into the flames. It was hot and he found it hard to breath. He would try his best to save Azelma's sister, even if he did not know her. If the woman was already dead, he would maybe find his peace.

He kicked down the door to his right and went in. The apartment was shabby and a little bit messy. The door to the bedroom stood open and he rushed through there, wary of the crumbling door frame. On first sight there was the couple, engaged in an embrace. They must have loved and fell asleep. They died in their sleep that was the gentlest death, he supposed.

He was about to turn away when he noticed a movement by the slender legs of the woman. He hurried over only to halt in his steps. He must have been hallucinating. The smoke must have manipulated his sight. The woman, whose attempts to free herself from her husband's embrace was none other than Eponine.

Without thinking he rushed over to her. Her limbs had become motionless and her eyes were just about to close when he reached her. He called out to her, begging her to stay awake while he freed her. She muttered something among the lines of angel and her consciousness faded. If he was quick enough he would be able to save her.

After pulling her free, he held her in his arms as he fought his way outside. His strength was fading, the smoke and heat had taken their toll on his famished body.

Only five steps away from the freedom of this hell he used the last of his strength to get outside. They were pulled away from the house as it collapsed behind them. Enjolras felt his consciousness fade and he felt himself fall. With his last thought he took care that he would not crush the woman in his arms.

His world went black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the 'Enjolras' arc so to say. Next weeks starts the Marius' arc ;).  
> ~Liliana-chan


	11. Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

**In The Rain: Empty Chairs at Empty Tables  
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis.**

* * *

 

_There's a grief that can't be spoken._   
_There's a pain goes on and on._   
_Empty chairs at empty tables_   
_Now my friends are dead and gone._

_(Empty Chairs at Empty Tables~ Les Miserables)_

* * *

 

He had no idea how he had gotten to his grandfather's home. The last thing he knew was that his head hurt and there was a sudden sharp pain in his collarbone. Then everything was black.

When he woke up his sweet Cosette was by his side. The day started good. The doctor ordered him to rest until the wound in his collarbone had closed.

Once the doctor had left him and his love alone he asked her about the barricade. If she knew anything. He knew it would be a sad topic but he needed to know. After Gavroche was shot all of them had fought back harder, each and every one of them had taken a bullet.

But they all must have survived. With a doctor like Joly and a leader like Enjolras everything was possible. They surely had survived.

He was, however puzzled when his love did not answer his question but stood up. A vaguely familiar man came in, introducing himself as Cosette's father. Slowly he explained to him that many of his friends had let their lives.

“That can't be. It can't be. They are alive I'm sure of it.”, Marius argued. “I want to see the Musain. I don't care what the doctor says. Please, Monsieur.”, he begged and Cosette's father studied him for a moment.

“I will fetch a coach for us. Do you want me to send someone in to help you dress?”, he asked kindly and Marius shook his head sitting up straighter. When Cosette's father had gotten out of the room Marius pulled himself up slowly and pulled over the clothes that were laying on a chair, wincing with every sharp bite of pain coursing through his body whenever he moved the wrong way.

He did not care if the world around him swam and he lost balance a couple of times, something he blamed the head wounds for. He looked up in panic when there was a knock at the door. If it was the doctor, his grandfather or his love he could forget his journey, so he only called out hesitatingly.

Thankfully it was only Cosette's father who told him the coach was ready. After handing out a walking stick to Marius, the older man turned and walked out the door.

Marius followed him slowly, the stick was a great help. He had no leg wounds, but due to his other injuries he still felt weak on his feet. The stick gave him some security in his steps.

Without saying a word he climbed into the coach and looked out the window. Their journey seemed endless and they had to walk the last 50 meters or so, since the barricade was brought away by policemen and helpers. Women were trying to scrub the blood on the floor away.

Slowly, painfully, they made their way to the Musain and slipped into the cafe unseen. Marius' world crumbled when he saw them laying in a row. His friends. Their eyes closed, their clothes bloody. He noted their leader missing. Maybe the policemen or the soldiers had already taken him away to display him somewhere. In their eyes he was at fault.

His friends were all dead.

The light that had come into his life with Cosette's appearance had suddenly turned into a shadow. His friends, his loved friends were all dead. All of them were.

No not all of them. Eponine was not laying with the students and her brother. Did that mean she stayed away from the barricade like he had told her to. He looked around the room.

This room that once was so warm and full of laughter after Enjolras had finished his speech. This room that was so full of a spirit of tomorrow was now cold, almost dusty. Dark and alien. He could not comprehend that in this room they once had their meetings.

He could see their silhouettes in their usual corner. All sitting around the table listening more or less intently to what Enjolras had to say. Grantaire would interrupt with sarcastic remarks that would end in a small banter between the two of them.

To this very table Gavroche had walked up one day, ignoring the owner's rage about an urchin in his cafe, and demanded to be part of their group. At that time no one had taken him seriously. But after he had provided information about the people's suffering, no one had ever shushed him away again.

Gavroche had brought his sister, although at the beginning he would deny their relationship because of their parents, and the yooung woman, who seemed to have her eyes and ears everywhere also gave important information. They became part of their group.

That very group that wanted to ban police and army violence. That group that wanted to stop the injustice in the country. That group that planned a revolution. The group that shone in a bright light.

Their flame however had died. Along with them. Their sacrifice would be worth nothing.

And all he could do was subdue the tears as he looked at the corner where their table had stood, imagining it getting dusty since no one would be sitting there any more.

All that had remained of his friends were empty chairs at an empty table.

His friends would not sing no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I'd start the Marius' arc with Empty Chairs with what else. Maybe you have noticed that the other two arcs had topics. Eponine's was Freedom, Enjolras' was Punishment and Marius' will be Grief.
> 
> ~Liliana-chan


	12. This Should Not Be

**In The Rain : This Should Not Be**   
**Disclaimer : I do not own Les Mis.**

* * *

 

_This is the memory_   
_This is the curse of having_   
_Too much time to think about it_   
_It's killing me_   
_This is the last time_   
_This is my forgiveness_   
_This is endless_

_(This Memory ~ Mayday Parade)_

* * *

 

“This can't be true. It must be fake. The soldiers and the policemen must have staged this. They're not dead. They're _not_ dead. They're _not_. They can't be.”, Marius heard himself whisper. His love's father was sitting beside him in the carriage back to Marius' grandfather's place.

His heart was racing fast as the impossibility of his situation dawned on him. His friends were not dead. This was all just a bad dream. He would wake up soon and go to the Musain to introduce Cosette to all his friends.

They would be happy for him, drinking on him and his love. Even Enjolras would approve as long as Cosette would not divert Marius from the cause. Eponine and Cosette would get along great and become good friends. Everything would turn out the way he wanted it to.

His friends were not dead.

The moment the carriage halted in front of his grandfather's place Marius tried to jump out of the carriage. He simply could not sit still. He needed to move. His injury made this illusion almost seem his real. But he was a hundred percent sure.

Cosette's father held him back reminding him of his injury. He did not care. This was all a dream. He was only dreaming this all. He was not injured. He would run a mile to prove his point. He had to move. Moving would show him that this was indeed a dream because in his dreams this injury was not going to hurt. He was only dreaming. That was the only explanation.

His friends could not be dead.

His stomach dropped. Much like himself when he set foot on the floor. Bile and something else was rising in his throat and he was sure he would throw up. Joly had warned him about that stomach bug. He made a mental note to visit his friend for a tonic once the sickness in his stomach had stopped.

“Marius, my love, Where have you been? I was worried.”, Cosette, his beautiful blonde angel, called out to him and hurried over to him. While his right hand was before his mouth keeping in what his stomach wanted to get rid of, his left stopped her. He wanted neither spoil her dress nor give the bug over to her.

“What's wrong, my love?”, she asked him and he shook his head, unable to answer him. Her father gently led her away from him, talking to her softly. In the corner of his eyes he saw the doctor and his grandfather hurry to him.

He could not hold it in any more and emptied his stomach onto the path leading to his grandfather's house. He was crouching down to keep the liquid staining his clothes too much. All of a sudden he felt weak on his feet.

After making sure Marius had completely emptied his stomach Cosette's father picked him up and carried him back to his bed like a little child.

“It is the sorrow of losing his friends. This is normal. Give him a couple of days to cope with it. If he is still throwing up in a week's time please give me a call. I'll prescribe him a tonic to strengthen his stomach then.”, the doctor told his grandfather and Marius did not have the strength to argue he did not need the doctor since he had Joly. And he did not grieve his friends. He had no reason to.

He decided to close his eyes to sleep. It would all be better in the morning. He would wake up and it would all be a dream.

His friends would not be dead.

He was turning in his bed throwing the blanket his love had draped over him. He was hot. He was so incredibly hot. He was sweating like he was carrying a passed out Grantaire back home in the middle of the hottest summer.

He wanted nothing else but fall asleep. Instead he was tossing and turning remembering all the times in the Musain. How much fun they had. How much believe they had in their cause.

He had no idea how long it was since he had been put down in the bed and he had decided to sleep. All he knew was that he could not sleep. He watched the sun setting through the open window engulfing the room first in a deep orange hue until it became dark.

Realization hit him as the moonlight shone into the room coldly. He was alone. All of his friends were dead. No one was left alive. All of them had fallen. The tears welled up in his eyes and he felt sobs course through his body. How could he ever overcome this sorrow? He was alive and they were dead. It was so incredibly unfair and it hurt.

Marius cried into his pillow, careful not to wake any one in the house. He cried until he could not cry any more. He cried until he finally fell asleep. He cried until the sun, that very sun he had watched set those endless hours ago, slowly rose.

His friends should not be dead.

But they were.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grieving phase one (after Verena Kast): not wanting it to be true. This took me longer to write. Not because I didn't have the inspiration but because I was too lazy to sit down and write. But here it is.
> 
> ~Liliana-chan


End file.
